Morning pages (a poem)

Morning pages (a poem)

I have been doing The Artist’s Way for the last couple of years (this is my third time around). One of the practices is the morning pages, in which you just write three pages of whatever comes out. As I have become more diligent about pursuing creative activities, I have slacked off on the morning pages—so, this morning, I decided to combine the morning pages with my usual poetry writing. This poem is the result…

It’s morning and I slept too much last night I took a nap a little before 4:30 woke up too late to go where I’d planned to go

So I watched a little TV and went back to sleep woke up and repeat and repeat and repeat

I suppose the day wiped me out and it wasn’t even about me though it tapped into something I was feeling something I’ve been feeling and some things I’ve been missing

Like the chance to break down and be held and be wanted and be loved and be reassured that nothing bad will happen to me if I can only trust if I can just believe if I can let things go if I can let things in if I can let things be

It’s too easy to walk away It’s not easy to walk away But what happens if I stay?

Anyway it’s morning the sun is out everything is quiet— maybe too quiet

I know because I can hear myself think I don’t want to hear myself think because thinking stops me from doing (doing nothing doesn’t count)

I’ve got work to do and I’ll get to it but what I want is to go find some answers to all these questions I can’t stop asking find a way to reveal all these secrets I keep keeping They won’t hurt anyone but me

Last night I dreamed of a beam of light leading to a bright blue new world where everything was beautiful and the future was pain-free

No more fleeing demons no more fleeing desires no more empty feelings and home is warm and safe…